


Beauty And The Beast (Lams Edition)

by greensparrow29



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, I got bored, M/M, but that is explained later on, but you can have one chapter of hopefully good writing, jefferson and lafayette are twins, probably won't update this again, so have some lams beauty and the beast au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7833679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greensparrow29/pseuds/greensparrow29
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex is a peculiar person: strong, but weak, intelligent, but with his head in the clouds, handsome, but has no interest in relationships. (Or so Jefferson assumes anyway.)</p><p>That is until Alex's mother is kidnapped and he has to found out where she is...</p><p>However, turns out the guy who he thought did it, is innocent and kind of cute, for a beast hybrid thing.</p><p>Lams Beauty And The Beast AU that nobody wanted.</p><p>(Except maybe the person that did the fanart that this is based off, Macaroon22 on Tumblr. Oh and the person that requested said fanart, thebreakfastgenie. So yeah kudos to them for giving me this idea.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty And The Beast (Lams Edition)

**Author's Note:**

> Update: Okay, I'm sorry I haven't written another chapter. It was kinda a spur of the moment thing?   
> Anyway, I noticed a few spelling mistakes and changed some of the details because I realised they kinda contradicted themselves, but anyway, the chapter that is here is semi-improved.

Chapter 1

"Hamilton, what a pleasure!" Mr Washington, the owner of the stationary shop Alex frequently frequented, said, happily, grinning at the young man in front of him."Let me guess you run out of paper again?"

Alex grinned back. Washington was right obviously. He wrote more than was decent- according to Jefferson. Fuck Jefferson. Even Alex could see he had a crush on him, but really he showed off so much, the young man was surprised even the village girls liked him. Everyone seemed to like him, though; he could guess that from his overused nickname: Beau. What a stupid thing to call him, it was not like he was exactly attractive or interesting. He had always assumed it was a joke.

"Of course! You know me to well, George," Alex replied and gave the other man the money for the paper he had taken from the shelf on the wall next to him. He preferred not to look at the other shelves: full of beautiful notebooks, and different coloured inks, and... Well a load of stuff Hamilton would love to have, but couldn't really afford. Working on the village council did not pay particularly well, especially when Madison and Jefferson. Kept. On. Beating. Him.

He smiled, weakly. He needed this essay to be perfect but had run out of paper while trying to do it. It didn't help that people kept on knocking it out of his hands or ripping it up. He kept saying it was because they were jealous of his ability to read and write, but it still hurt.

Yes, Jefferson could read and write, but Alex did it for fun when he didn't have to write something for the counsel, while Jefferson did it out of necessity. Loving knowledge as much as he did, he frequently frequented the village library- he could not understand why people would not try to read with such a wealth of knowledge a block away. Why they wouldn't try and get out of this provincial town, one way or another.

"Hamilton?" Mr Washington said as Alex was about to walk out. Turning around in confusion, Alex was surprised to find that the man held one of the many beautiful notebooks in his shop in his hands. Why?

Grinning wildly, Washington threw the notebook at him, Alex catching it easily. "I know you can beat Jefferson on your own son, but I think it might help writing it in something like that." Alex, surprised by his generosity, profusely thanked the man and walked out the door of the small shop, grinning widely, ideas already spinning around in his brain faster than the speed of light.

Shouts of "Bonjour!" and snippets of conversation could be heard across the town. It was nothing Alex had not heard before and so he ignored it as he walked towards the fountain in the middle of the village, where he usually sat for hours on end, writing or reading. Chewing on the end of his quill as he walked and wrote at the same time, he did not internalize the rumors and chiding of the people around him, talking about him as if he was a character in an unrealistic book about drama.

"Why Beau keeps turning down poor Jefferson, I do not know. They are both horribly attractive and would be such a good couple."

"Have you seen how much they argue? It's so romantic!"

"God, Beau is peculiar. Always has his head in a book or a quill on a page. It's a wonder he gets around, with him writing or daydreaming half the time. He is going to hurt his beautiful face!"

Sitting down on the fountains' edge, Alex continued writing, ignoring everyone staring at him, as he scribbled furiously against the pages of his new notebook, determined. He. Was. Not. Letting. Jefferson. Win.

Speaking of the devil, Jefferson rounded a corner, wearing his hair down lazily, flexing his muscles at a few of the local girls. Really, one of them was married for god's sake! Hamilton bolted up the second he felt Jefferson come near him, glaring at the other man.

"What do you want?" Hamilton said, annoyed. "Going to flex your muscles at me as well?" Rolling his eyes, he tried to put his notebook into his bag, but was stopped by a hand grabbing it before he could.

"Only if you want, Monsieur." Jefferson said, winking, before opening up to the page of which Alex was writing on. "What's this? Your diary? Didn't think you could stoop as low as to steal from that stupid stationary shop just to get a new diary." Tutting, he threw the notebook back at Hamilton, twirling his curly hair, bored, having obviously not read what he had written thankfully.

"Actually, it was a gift, Jefferson!" Alex said, catching the book easily, angry. "Like you would know the definition of it, as I seriously doubt you have ever given one!"

"A gift?" Jefferson replied, snorting. "Why would old Washington give you a gift? Oh wait, it's probably out of sympathy, because of your insane mother and absent dad."

Alex had had enough. The second Jefferson got his parents into this. He. Was. Dead.

Punching Jefferson in the jaw, Hamilton lunged at him, pushing him over with unprecedented strength. People started to gather, as Jefferson swung a weak punch in Alex's direction, which Alex immediately blocked. For such a muscular guy, he really didn't have much strength in him, as shown by the fact that in a minute, Jefferson was pinned down and unable to move.

"This is not how I would have thought our first time in this position would be like." Jefferson chided, hoping to calm the fire burning in Alex's dark eyes.

Unchanged in expression, Hamilton stated, "NEVER, bring my parents into our arguments. Got that?" before getting off him, picking up his bag, glaring round at the crowd that had gathered until they had gone back to what they had been doing and walked away.

Alex's hands were clenched all the way home. Yes, his father was absent. However, calling his mother mad was UNCALLED FOR AND WRONG. It was not her fault she was sick...

Walking into the small house on the outskirts of the town of which he frequented, he was not surprised to find his mother not in the front room/dining room, when he walked in. She spent most of her days lying in bed, none moving. She hadn't been... well, since his father left. Thankfully, he had been at the age where he could get a job and he now works for the council and also has a job as the vice-librarian of his beloved library, which may not pay a lot, but it pays and he enjoys it, almost as much as arguing with Jefferson. Almost.

He thought nothing of it, until he noticed something. His mother normally at least shouted hello to him when he came home, yet he had not heard anything as of yet. Finishing making the usual soup, he brought some upstairs, hoping he could make his mother eat today, unlike yesterday, when she had refused.

Pushing open the door, he dropped the tray, speechless. The whole place had been destroyed: the curtains torn and destroyed, a bed post broken leaving the top of the bed to fall, the beautiful flowers he had left his mother not long ago knocked over and trampled on, the bedside table pushed over, her bed side table burnt from a lamp that had been carelessly pushed onto its side.

Scrambling over the rubbish scattered across the floor, he shouted for his mother, but not a sound came. Panicking, he pushed up the top of the bed, hoping he could just find his mother undisturbed and asleep under the covers, but no. She was nowhere to be seen.


End file.
